Cold
by D3stiny-Sm4sher
Summary: After a decade of fighting crime, the PowerPuff Girls' glory days are at their end. There's not a criminal in Townsville, and yet the Utonium family is in shambles. Blossom struggles to hold what's left of her family together in the fallout of a tragic turn of events.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This story is a gift-fic for a dear friend, at her request. The prompt was simply, "A PowerPuff Girls fanfic centered around Blossom's perspective."**

**I actually barely had any familiarity with the series before writing this, and over the span of a few days, I watched through the animated film and a handful of select episodes in order to do research so I could write this.**

**I want a lot of the story to speak for itself, and you can draw your own conclusions, but one detail I'd like to emphasize is that I wanted this to be set decidedly within the realm of the official American cartoon but be a bit twisted at the same time: primarily, I wanted to focus on the freakish features the girls possess and use this as sort of a minor plot-point, emphasizing their 'mutant' nature.**

**You will also notice that one of the characters is...'off.' This is intentional, but I don't want to spoil it, so please read it if you'd like to see what I was going for.  
**

* * *

_**Cold**_

* * *

The city of Townsville...was thriving.

Crime was at an all-time low, business was booming, public works had been on the rise since the newly appointed Mayor had taken office...And yet, all was not so well for three specific citizens, despite their actions arguably leading to this rise of peace.

The PowerPuff Girls, self-appointed guardians of the city, had seen better days, however.

Hovering in her bathroom, Blossom swiped her hand across her phones touch screen, tracing a 'Z' shape to signify her saved contact and poking at the 'Call' button on the screen.

[Calling...]  
[**Buttercup**]

The ringback hummed in Blossom's ear as she nervously fidgeted with her bangs. It was moments like this when she envied 'normal' kids and their access to things like 'fingers.' Having caught herself envying 'normal' kids, Blossom's mouth curved ever-so-slightly downward as she stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. Her enormous bug-eyes were glazed over in a moment of remorse as her conscience scolded her for daring to feel sorry for herself. She could fly and run as fast as a bullet, lift objects thousands of times her own weight, and melt things with her eyes. She had no reason to pity herself – and yet it seemed to be a recurring trend she could not shake these days.

As she fended off this self-doubt, Blossom pulled open her personal drawer in the bathroom cabinet, retrieved her fine-toothed comb, and began to straighten her bangs with care. The ringback finally ended, and she was treated to her sister's voicemail inbox.

["I'm not at my phone,"] deadpanned the familiar, gravely-edged voice of the recording. ["Or maybe I just don't wanna _talk_ to you. Whatever."]

[-_Beep!_-]

A robotic voice immediately followed up:  
["USER'S INBOX IS FULL."]  
[-_Beep!_-]

Blossom groaned, slapping her stub of a hand against her face as she tilted her head back in frustration.

"What's wrong?" chirped the sweet concern of Blossom's other sister from the hallway.

With a sigh, Blossom regained her posture, setting the phone beside the sink and re-adjusting her bangs with her comb, undoing the damage her face-palm had just caused.

A teenage blond with trailing pigtails floated into the bathroom, hovering behind Blossom. She was in a formal dress of satin blue. Blossom, likewise, was in a matching red dress of the same texture. A green one to complete the set was hanging off of the shower bar to their side, unoccupied.

Blossom ignored her sister's curiosity as she set the comb down, reaching for a brush. She willed it to cling to her stumpy 'hand' and it obeyed, assisting her in straightening her threads of wavy red hair.

"Sis?" Bubbles' cutesy voice prodded, the girl's cheeks flushed with makeup. "Didja find out what's going on with Buttercup?"

"She's not coming," Blossom bitterly concluded with a stingy passive-aggresiveness, continuing to tend to her locks.

Bubbles whimpered, her lips pouted and her shoulders slumping.

"What are we gonna _do_?" Bubbles sniffled. "Prom is _ruined_..."

"_Argh_," Blossom huffed, slapping her brush against the sink's porcelain. "Bubbles," she growled with impatience, spinning around. Her hands were planted against her temples. "For the _fourth _time...it is _not _prom!"

"Oh. It's not?"

"_No!_ Prom is not for, like...a _month! _Seriously! What is _wrong _with you?"

Bubbles' huge blue eyes withered with hurt at Blossom's words, her mouth agape with shock.

That self-doubt and remorse stung at Blossom's chest again and she bit her lip, letting her hands fall to her side. She knew full-well what was wrong with her sister, and she shouldn't be taking our her frustration on her sibling.

The two teens bobbed in the air gently, their bodies light as feathers but their heads heavy with tension.

"I-I'm sorry," Blossom stammered, giving her sister a sympathetic look. "I didn't mean to yell."

"But you did," Bubbles mumbled with dejection, her head bobbed. "You've been yelling a _lot _today..."

"I know, I know," Blossom quickly conceded. "It's just...I feel like no one is taking this seriously."

"Taking _what _seriously?"

"_Ohh_, my-!" Blossom puffed out a grunt of anguish, her hands wriggling by her face as she struggled to contain herself. "Have you _seriously _forgotten?"

Bubbles nodded timidly, her eyes conveying her shame as she lifted a hand to her lips.

She muttered with embarrassment, "...Is that bad?"

Blossom went slack-jawed at her sibling's ignorance. This gave way to her teeth grinding together as she hid her awe-stricken rage as best she could, sensitive of her sister's evident condition.

"You're mad," Bubbles concluded dimly, skulking out of the room.

"N-no, wait," Blossom blurted, catching her sister by the shoulder. "Bubbles...This is _important._"

"And..._that's _why you're mad?"

Blossom nodded, her heart heavy at her sister's lack of remembrance.

"Bubbles, tonight's the commemoration of the statue."

"_Ohhh, _statue." Bubble's face lit up with wonder. "Is it of a unicorn?"

"N-no, Bubbles, it-"  
"I _love _unicorns."  
"Yes. Yes, I _know _that, but...No, it-"  
"Is it an octopus?"  
"_No, _why would-?"  
"Then what _is _it?"  
"It's a statue of the Professor...Of Dad?"  
"_Ohhh..._Is he riding a unicorn in it?"  
"Nnn..._No, _he's _not _riding a-"  
"Welllll, then, is he riding an octop-"  
"No."  
"Oh. Seems like a waste to me. So...Is Buttercup gonna be there?"

Blossom sighed, utterly defeated by the apparent futility of this conversation. Bubbles had never been the sharpest tool in the toolbox, but she seemed to have gotten worse and worse ever since the night that had splintered their unnatural family apart.

And here Blossom was, feebly attempting to hold it together when she could hardly hold _herself _together.

"I hope so," Blossom answered Bubbles' inquiry. "But she won't answer her phone."

"Oh...She's prolly with those _boys _again."

Blossom's lips squirmed with dissatisfaction at that thought, but it made the most sense.

"Probably," Blossom agreed, a bit surprised at her sister's perception, given her current condition.

"_Hmmm_..." Bubbles tapped at her chin, surveying the neatly pressed green dress hanging behind them. "Maybe if we show her how pretty her dress is, she'll change her mind."

Blossom's eyes were at this point drained of energy. She patted Bubbles tenderly on the back before floating over to the sink.

"Yea," she lied, complying with Bubbles' misplaced hope. "Maybe she will..."


	2. Chapter 2

Applause.

It was agonizing to endure the applause. It dragged on for so long, too, even as the crowd began to disperse. Should she be _happy _about it, because it spoke to the quality of character of the figure being applauded? Or should she be aggravated because he wasn't there to accept the praise that was deserved? Or should she be hurt because _how _could people be clapping and happy and smiling with the way things were? Or should she-  
"Blossom?"

Blossom's stinging eyes blinked, damp at their corners. She looked up to the curvy figures of the woman dressed in red business attire, her face obscured by Blossom's tears.

"Mayor Bellum?" Blossom courteously acknowledged the woman before her.

"Are you all right, dear?"

"_Oh, _y-yes, I'm fine," Blossom stated with a shaky nod, her voice cracking.

Bubbles, standing right beside them, opted into the conversation.

"Watch out," Bubbles whispered – loudly. "She's been _reeeallly _cranky today."

Blossom's quivering expression soured at her sister's statement.

"Ah," Mayor Bellum laughed weakly. "I see. Thank you for the warning, Bubbles."

"Yup!"

"Say," Bellum directed to the blond girl. "You sure are looking quite pretty – why don't you go pose with the statue for the photographers?"

"_Oooooh, _I love pictures!" With that, Bubbles whizzed off in a burst of blue, greeting the journalists who remained, lingering around the statue.

Blossom took that moment to marvel and appreciate the craft put into the piece that she's been avoiding. There he was – just as he'd been not long ago, before the accident had transpired. His thick chin, bright eyes, clean-cut hair...Well, all right, he looked like he had about ten years lopped off his age, but still. It sure looked like a bronze embodiment of the man, dressed in his lab coat, merrily toting a large vial crossed with that enormous 'X' that Blossom had come to feel so conflicted with.

"Ms. Mayor!" a voice called to them from nearby, jarring Blossom from her nostalgia. A stocky journalist in a cheap suit had asked the question, as he was becoming quickly surrounded by news reporters.

Blossom breathed out an audible sigh, to which Ms. Bellum offered a light touch on the shoulder with condolence before approaching the thirsty mob.

"Why couldn't the third PowerPuff Girl make it here today?"  
"What about the Professor? What is his status?"  
"Is she evading the law?"

"Please, please," Mayor Bellum pushed her hands at the air, hoping they would ease up. "I'm sorry, but Professor Utonium is still bed-ridden, and he-"

She was interrupted: "Any word on when he'll be able to return to work?"  
And another: "Any response to the criticisms leveled at the way you've handled the recent tax situation?"  
The barrage went on: "Do you really think the Utonium girls are fit to be living on their own?"

Blossom stepped forward, opening her mouth and lifting an agitated arm.

"Hey!" she squawked with indignation. "I'm standing right-!" But Ms. Bellum eased her to stop, speaking up instead.

"As I understand it," Bellum explained cautiously, "Utonium is still under heavy care. There is no indication of when he will improve. And I stand by my decision. We should remember that the girls aren't normal children." Blossom's body tightened with indecision at Bellum's phrasing. The woman finished her thought. "As such, our traditional laws need not apply to them in exactly the same man-"  
"So you're saying that they're _above _the law?" quipped one journalist.

"That is _not _what I'm saying," Bellum firmly replied.

"Then what are your thoughts on the impending trial of Buttercup Utonium?"

Blossom's heart sank at the reminder of that mess, and she was further distraught at the manner in which even the sturdy Ms. Bellum was slightly shaken by the question.

"Buttercup...was unable to attend the ceremony today, but it is completely unrelated, and it will be up the courts to decide her fate."

"Should she be found guilty," the same reporter dug further, "how do you expect she would be detained?"  
"Will the Chemical X be removed from her body?"

"How would such a decision impact the safety of Townsville?"

"Do you feel any personal responsibility for these girls?"  
"What _was _your relationship with the Professor?"

"I have no further comments for today," Mayor Bellum loudly announced her disinterest in continuing to publicly discuss these affairs. She proceeded to backpedal away from the crowd, her assistants and bodyguard holding the press at bay as Blossom followed. Blossom couldn't help but admire the way the woman's long strides maintained grace and strength. As much as she had come to care for the old Mayor of Townsville, Blossom couldn't deny the objectively safer town they had come to live in since Bellum had taken over in light of the man's retirement.

"I'm sorry you had to hear all of that, dear," Bellum said to Blossom as they made their way toward the statue.

"It's OK," Blossom tried to appease her, suddenly distracted by the site unfurling before them.

Bubbles was gleefully posing in her satin dress by, on, and around the statue as photographers snapped their cameras. The girl was evidently ignorant of the emotional weight the chiseled hunk of bronze carried. Blossom found herself a bit uncomfortable with some of said poses, given that the girls themselves were still but sixteen. With how much trouble Bubbles and Buttercup seemed to be getting themselves into trouble these days, Blossom's insides squirmed at the thought of what awaited, especially without their father there to anchor them. Her grip had barely held for a few months before Buttercup flew off the handle. She could feel Bubbles slipping away more and more each day, but in such a different manner.

Something about the particular ways in which Bubbles was prancing about reminded Blossom of something...No, of _someone. _Oh, no. No, no. That was it – those moves, it made Blossom think of..._HIM._

Bellum gave pause in the same manner Blossom did, the two of them gawking at the blue-laden Powerpuff Girl.

"I didn't realize how serious you were," Bellum thoughtfully lamented.

"Huh?" Blossom was stunned, still trying to process her realization of just how deep-seated Bubbles' issues were.

"Your sister, she's...really slipped backward a ways, hasn't she?"

"Oh..." Blossom nodded her spherical head with melancholy. "It's like-...I think she's repressing it even more now."

"I think you may be right," Bellum agreed. "Those pills aren't working?"

Blossom dully shook her head.

"No. Nothing. I mean, our bodies aren't exactly..._normal, _so I guess it's not a surprise, but...-"

"You weren't able to figure out a cure from who did this, were you?"

"Mm-hm," Blossom shook her head, her mouth curving with a barely contained rage. "Buttercup made sure we didn't get the opportunity."

"Ah, right..." Bellum gave pause, acknowledging the sensitive subject she was stirring. "Whatever happened to counseling?"

Blossom shrugged, discouraged by another reminder of failure.

"She wouldn't go back after the first time. I mean, what am I supposed to _do_? She refuses to go on her own, and I can't _make _her, she's-..." And there was that uncomfortable sensation of her eyes growing wet again. "We're super-powered _freaks, _Ms. Bellum, I'm afraid that-"  
"Blossom..."  
"I'm _afraid _that if I try to make her go again, she'll get upset, and someone will get _hurt, _like last time."

"Blossom, _she _is hurting – right now."

"We _all _are!" Blossom whimpered in defeat, tossing up her arms.

Wide-eyed and trembling, Blossom plodded forward a couple of steps. She looked over her shoulder to the independent woman she had come to admire.

"And I don't know what to do," Blossom confessed weakly. "Each day, it's like...-" She shook her head and let it sag down with hopeless anxiety. "My whole family - I'm losing each of them more and more. It's just a matter of time until...-"

Blossom closed her eyelids, keeping her tears withheld. Bellum's tall form squatted down to offer Blossom a brief hug before the flashes of camera and squabbling of reporters drew closer, destroying this short-lived moment of reprieve Blossom had so desperately needed.

"Mayor," cited the deep voice of Bellum's head bodyguard. "We'd best get you back to Town Hall. We're already behind schedule."

Bellum pressed down on Blossom's small but durable shoulders, leaning herself back upright.

"I have to go," she stated the obvious to the red-haired super-teen. It was less about informing Blossom and more about expressing her regret. "If anything comes up – anything at all – you know how to reach me. That phone works both ways."

"Thank you," Blossom earnestly expressed.

"Don't let those piranhas get you," Bellum warned as she backed off, pointing her finger to the crowd of cameras and notepads. "Take your sister and try to go home and relax."

Blossom nodded compliantly, taking a deep breath as she looked up to the bold woman in red, whisking away with her small entourage of assistants. Bellum was escorted into a nearby black limo and driven off the premises. Blossom gave a tired glance to Bubbles, who was giggling like a clown. In one swift hop, Blossom was immediately floating beside the blond girl, perched atop the statue's shoulders.

"All right, Bubbles," Blossom sighed. "Come on."

"But I'm having fun~!" Bubbles squealed, flipping up over the bronze Professor's head in a smooth cartwheel-like motion. She landed primly on the opposite shoulder, stretching out one leg and arm in a graceful pose.

"Bubbles," Blossom firmly repeated through grit teeth. "_Please_." A moment or so later, when she realized that she wasn't being listened to, Blossom frowned, bellowing at the batch of on-lookers below. "Hey! Show's over!"

Bubbles dropped her theatric pose in light of her sister's shouting.

"You don't have to _yell_," Bubbles snipped with dainty annoyance.

"I feel like I do when you won't _listen_," Blossom cited.

"Why do I gotta keep listening to you, then?"

"Wh-?! _Because, _I'm the leader!"

"We're not a _team _anymore," Bubbles spitefully snarled. "You can't have a leader if you don't got a _team_."

"_Fff-!_" Blossom thrust her knubs for hands onto her hips. The wary collective of on-goers had her a little nervous, but her frustration today was preventing her from caring all too much. "Well, we have _school _tomorrow, and I know for a fact that you haven't done your homework yet."

"I bet Buttercup hasn't, either," Bubbles taunted. "Whatcha gonna do, go hunt her down and _make _her do her homework?"

"M-maybe I _will!_" Blossom half-heartedly countered. "School is super important. You know that."

"I'll do my schoolwork when I feel like it," Bubbles growled, floating right up to Blossom with crossed arms.

"Fine!" Blossom spat. "Can we at least go _home_ now?"

"_You _can go home if you want to," Bubbles declared. "I've been stuck in the house _all week_ with you, and you've been bossy and pushy and I am _sick _of it. I get a night out."

"B-but...you _can't_!" Blossom denied, clinging to control in a feeble attempt.

"I can," Bubbles declared, poking at Blossom's chest. "I can do whatever I want, and _you _can't tell me what to do."

In a streak of neon blue, Bubbles was gone, whizzing off toward who-knew-where. Blossom was left dumbfounded, slack-jawed, and humiliated in front of the passers-by.

"_Urgh!_" she huffed in rage, swinging her fist at the nearest object available. This object happened to be the extended arm of the statue, and a severed stone hand holding a chiseled vial of Chemical X collided with the nearby sidewalk, cracking the cement in pieces. "Oh-my-gosh!" Blossom immediately gasped, distraught at her own mistake. "I'm so sorry, Professor," she rapidly whimpered to the inanimate object.

The camera snaps picked back up, and Blossom could feel her face burning red as she fumbled with the broken statue piece, lifting it back into place with the forces that latched her appendages to what she willed to pick up. She focused her sight and used her heat vision to fuse the broken arm together with its owner.

"_Ahhh, _haha," she shakily laughed, gently patting the slightly warped stone and waving her other hand to the small audience. "See? Good as new! Um, th-thank you everyone for...for coming today, and...it's been good! Everything is good! Good? Good! Uhh...Good-night!"

With a flash of her own, Blossom jettisoned her body away from the congregation, her chest full to bursting with anxiety. Within seconds, she was tucked within the safety of her home – alone. Drained of all willpower, Blossom shoved off her shoes onto the carpet of her shared bedroom, staring at the three beds against wall. Green, red, and blue – side-by-side, each one unmanaged, the sheets in clumps because Blossom had given up caring to tidy any of them up that day.

Blossom's bed, in the center, still had last night's reading material and a laptop sprawled across its surface, half buried in sheets. Bubbles' bed, on the left, had a small sea of stuffed animals, with a large stuffed octopus serving as the pillow. Buttercup's bed, on the right, had been untouched for days, a small stack of green, neatly folded sheets resting on the bare mattress from when Blossom had last washed them.

Blossom lingered over Buttercup's bed, running her hand across the green comforter with some longing.

_I _am _a good sister. I _am _a good sister._

The weakly constructed dam of self-esteem she'd employed for the day gave way, a flooded river of insecurity barreling over the buildings of her brain. Blossom pushed aside her book and computer and threw her body into the middle mattress, filling her pillow with the tears she had been hiding all week.


	3. Chapter 3

With a butter knife attached to her hand as if it were a magnet, Blossom smeared the dressing on the slices of bread. She felt less like a teen and more like a mother in that moment, fixing food while in a red blouse and black trousers. She layered thinly slices pieces of ham, one over the other. A slice of lettuce on one sandwich, a piece of cheese on another, a couple pieces of tomatoes on her own...

Blossom sighed to herself when she realized that she had, in fact, all but prepared three sandwiches, instead of two, so habitual was this act of food preparation by now. Frowning at her own mishap, Blossom grumpily slapped the top slices of bread onto each sandwich, sealing two of them in plastic baggies and placing them in a noticeable location in the somewhat empty fridge. Ugh. Grocery shopping. She would have to squeeze that act in somewhere in the next day or two, inbetween everything else on her plate.

To think that their money troubles once revolved around things as trivial as tooth fairy donations, or over-priced golf clubs to win Daddy's affections. Thanks to Mayor Bellum's generous act, a motion had been passed to grant the Utonium girls what was akin to social security checks in light of their father's inability to work. The years of service they had put into the town had certainly swayed over the officials who voted on the act. But tax money was not an infinite resource, and with Bubbles' super-powered, insatiable appetite growing by the week and the unknown future ahead, Blossom couldn't help but wonder if she would soon need to be dipping into her own college savings to start making ends meet. She was well aware that the matters she was dealing with were quite far apart than the average sixteen year-old, but of course, the Utoniums were far from average, weren't they?

Superpowers might've made monsters or even household tasks speedy work, but they only did so much to keep the doldrums of day-to-day care-taking at bay. For instance, the agonizing wait in the checkout line always drained Blossom's brain when she had to do it alone, which had been the past few times in a row.

She longed for the days past when they were but tikes, and their Father would take them grocery shopping. She could still remember the way he'd carefully educate them on the nutritional values of different foods, going into their material composition when Blossom would request it.

Her brain warped back to one instance in particular.

They had been traveling as a familial unit, years back, and while venturing through the snack and candy aisle for a single container of juice, Blossom thought to ask aloud what she had wondered for a while.

"Why is so much sugar bad for you?" she'd asked. The very idea that a component used in her own creation could be unhealthy for her was baffling.

"Haha, well, Blossom," the Professor had begun with that warming, amused smile. "Sugar has a very complex molecular structure – it gives us lots of energy, but-"

"_Yea, _tell me about it!" Buttercup jeered, cutting him off. "Remember last month when I ate all thoseboxes of cookies at once?"

"Oh?" The Professor seemed concerned, having no recollection of this event, given that the girls had never bothered to tell him about it.

"_Teehee_!" Bubbles giggled. "Yea, Professor! It was funny! Buttercup was _sooo _crazy that she beat up the Gangreen Gang all by herself, lickety-splits!"

"Heh." Buttercup puffed up her tiny frame in boast. "Wouldn't be the first time. But it was a lot quicker than usual."

"Well, yea," Blossom jumped in, "but then you had a sugar crash later that day, and me and Bubbles had to fight that giant, multiplying slime monster without you."

"_Mmph_," Buttercup shrugged off her lack of foresight. Blossom insisted on driving her point home, waving her hand up matter-of-factly.

"It was a _valuable lesson _in self-control and the dangers of over-indulgence," Blossom proclaimed, receiving a grouchy leer from Buttercup.

"Wh..._When _was this?" the Professor shakily wondered.

"Oh, a few weeks ago," Bubbles dismissed casually. "It was no biggie."

"Oh, I...see," the Professor mumbled warily. Blossom was perhaps the only one keen enough to pick up on his worrisome expression. "I suppose you girls are growing up fast, aren't you? Having...all sorts of adventures that I maybe don't...know about?"

"Don't worry, Professor!" Blossom tried to ease his concern with pride. "We're the _Powerpuff Girls_," she insisted, swooping to her siblings and pulling them close. "We can take care of ourselves, no sweat!"

Her sisters chimed in:

"Heck yea!"  
"You betcha!"

Blossom found comfort in their Father's warmed smile.

"I suppose you can," he conceded.

"But Professor," Blossom went back to her initial question, leaving her sisters back by the tiled floor of the grocery store. "Even though we _all know now-_" She patted Buttercup's head with condescension. "-how too much of a good thing can be bad for you...How _come _that stuff happens with sugar, in particular? Why'd she get so tired like that? And how _come_ you say that too much sugar is bad for us? Because we'll get...tired? I'm looking for specifics, here."

"Hm, well, from the sounds of it, Buttercup must have had a mild incident of hypoglycemia, which is when the bloodstream has a deficit of glucose...-"

Buttercup's eyes would roll as soon as Dad's mumbo-jumbo started up. Bubbles would stand there stupefied, her mouth agape, her thoughts probably drifting to...rainbows, and octopi, and unicorns, and...whatever it was that Bubbles thought about.

Blossom, on the other hand, would get misty-eyed and fascinated by the magnitude of her father's science-babble talk. Even at her young age back then, most of it still made sense, and it helped her feel a connection to her Father. It was science and knowledge that had brought her into existence, after all, why _wouldn't _she care about it? Back then it was a foreign concept that other kids in her age range couldn't comprehend even simple principles like the difference between covalent and ionic bonds. Then again, it was also weird for her to think that most kids never went to the library to spend their free time just for the sake of reading and learning. What kind of person _wouldn't _want to learn things?

The kind of person like Buttercup, who'd swipe cookies from the cookie jar without asking, and sneak candy to school, and such manner of mischievous things, all in spite of their Father's explanations.

Blossom heaved out a heavy breath, returning to the present as she set the ham-and-cheese sandwich into the fridge, bitter that even in her jaded state of mind, she would still make her inconsiderate sister a meal. It had been days since she had so much as spoken to her estranged, green-clad sibling, and their last interaction had been exponentially worse than the spat Blossom and Bubbles had experienced earlier that evening.

No more than an hour prior, having awakened from her sob-induced nap, Blossom had attempted to call Bubbles, only to notice that the addle-brained girl had left her phone at home. But Blossom had sat and wallowed in self-pity long enough. Bubbles would probably be fine. She's probably make a fool of herself, of course, but then again, this was the trend for all three PowerPuff Girls as of late, so what was another stupid mistake to add to the pile, right?

Blossom gently closed the fridge door and stared at the blank notepad magnetized to its surface. She drifted in quiet consideration for a few seconds before making her decision.

She summoned the pencil attached to the notepad's side and scribbled a message in careful, efficient cursive writing, obeying the unspoken laws of the ruled lines on the yellow sheet.

_Bubbles,_

_I'm going to find Buttercup.  
Dinner's in the fridge.  
I'm sorry for being mean today.  
It's because I'm scared about Daddy.  
Please do not eat anything in the freezer.  
I will be back soon._

_Love, Blossom_

Blossom studied her own writing, re-reading her note twice over and trying to predict how her sister would react to it. Part of her was worried that Bubbles might not understand the line about their Father, but at this point, she was done trying to appease Bubbles' repression. It wasn't helping, so perhaps some reinforcement of reality was what was needed.

Blossom squinted at the note, then drew a concise little heart shape beside her name, filling it in meticulously. Satisfied with her work, she attached the pencil back to its velcroed position on the notepad's side and went to her makeshift dinner, swallowing it down with a glass of water. A napkin's touch, a paper towel's swipe, and all traces of her meal were gone, the counter relatively clean. Agh, but there were some spots and light stains forming, and when she looked at the sink, she noticed that it still contained Bubbles' dishes from lunch, and..._ugh, _no. She couldn't waste all day nit-picking over house-cleaning.

With a decisive intake of breath, Blossom left her house, taking for the sunset skies of suburban Townsville. Within seconds of hyper-speed flight, she hovering above the downtown sprawl. There was one reliable way she could think of to track down Buttercup: the girl's loud mouth.

Closing her eyes and tuning into her super-hearing, Blossom scanned the cityscape's sounds.

Two dogs barking at each other.  
A baby's cry.  
Children's laughter.  
A couple murmuring sweet-nothings to each other.  
Disgruntled beeps and shouts from a traffic jam.  
A startled scream.  
An old-..._Wait, _a scream?

In a blink, Blossom whizzed through the sky to the source of the sound.

Two normal-enough looking high-schoolers in an embrace.  
Huh?

"-can't _believe _you!"  
"C'mon, babe, it was funny."  
"Was _not! _You scared the heck outta me!"

Blossom sighed, leaving the prankster and his love life to their business. A small part of her insides twisted with envy – there we was again, feeling sorry for herself, and over what? A _boy? _She had far more important things to be doing with her life. But it sure must've been nice, having that kind of thing to distract one from th—_argh, _no. She had to stop doing this to herself. She couldn't afford fussing over not having a 'normal' life, because she had a greater calling.

She sure wished that 'greater calling' had been more prevalent recently.

It was kind of strange – she'd actually been hoping that someone had been in danger. Something for her solve, someone for her to save, some reassurance that her supposed 'gift' still had a purpose in her life. But it had been weeks since so much as a theft or robbery had taken place. That should've been good, and yet Blossom found it ever-so-slightly aggravating.

Did that make her a horrible person? Oh, no. It did, didn't it? _Wanting _people's lives to be in danger, just so she had some excuse to swoop in? Just so she could hear that rallying cry of, "And once again, the day is saved...!" So she could verify her identity as a leader, as a super-hero, as a 'perfect little girl?'

Or had she been hoping for a crime to solve just so she could simply deal with something she actually _knew _how to fix? Something she wouldn't just fail at? It _did _make her a horrible person, she was sure of it.

She hadn't come out here to continue bathing in self-loathing or pity. No, she was supposed to find her lost, confused sister. Upon a moment's reflection, she acknowledged to herself that this description could indeed fit any _three _of the PowerPuff Girls. Who was she to decide what was best for her siblings when she could barely keep herself together as it was?

Frowning in self-disappointment, Blossom refocused her hearing, steadily floating onward as she swept through the noises of Townsville.

A bouncing basketball.  
A pedaling bicycle.  
A minivan door sliding closed.  
Heavy footsteps of a middle-aged man's jogging.

For minutes, Blossom sifted through the urban soundscape, but before she had all but given up hope, she heard it.

"Ahahaha!"

There it was. Buttercup's snarky little laugh, a solid footprint in the sands of Blossom's life.

Blossom whisked herself toward the voice, now that she had it locked from her periphery to her main attention.

"Nice one, Brick!"

Blossom's heart sank at the distant sound of her sister's words, as she knew full-well who 'Brick' was. Bubbles' guess had been right: Buttercup _was _with those awful boys. Not _quite _as awful anymore, of course, without their powers, but still...certainly a bad influence. What was Buttercup _thinking_? What would possess her to spend time with those creeps?

Blossom halted, hovering high above the shopping mall entrance. Ugh. That figured – the mall? Really, Buttercup? Blossom strained her eyesight, using her hawk-like vision and hyper-hearing in tandem to survey her sister's actions from afar.

There Buttercup was, dressed in low-cut jeans and a high-cut tanktop. Ugh, she looked like a proper mall-rat, her matted, ragged hair messily cut in layers, standing amongst her little entourage of equally bug-eyed boys. The RowdyRuff Boys, once created as equal-but-opposites to the PowerPuff Girls, were now reduced to mere freaks, their powers drained and their seemingly incurable blood lust giving way to sloth and indifference. In the months of fallout from the incident with _HIM, _the boys had more and more become playthings of Buttercup's whim.

"Heheheh," chuckled one of the boys, his black hair spiked up like a porcupine. "Ch-check out this _lady! _Wh-what's up with that _bonnet, _huh?"

Blossom immediately recognized him as Butch, and he still twitched with those muscle spasms of his. Blossom almost pitied him. Argh, she _did _pity him. She shouldn't – he didn't deserve it – but she did.

"I kinda like it," mumbled the meek blond boy, his parted hair spiked off sideways. "It's got a nice pattern, I mean look at-"  
-_Thwap_!-

"Boomer," whined the ever-annoying voice of Brick, the boys' previous 'leader.' "Shuddap, man!" He fidgeted with his oh-so-lame backwards baseball cap, his ratty-edged red ponytail tussling from the movement. "You're gonna embarrass us."

"Yea, Boomer, don't be such a retard," Buttercup scolded him under her breath.

Blossom dropped an audible gasp at her sister's vocabulary. Where had she gotten off using such language?

"Hey, _Grandma!_" Buttercup jeered at the passer-by, an elderly woman barely making her way by with a cane. "What's the deal, lady? I didn't save this city so you could go wobbling around, wasting up space. Go to an old-people's home, where you belong!"

"Well, I _never_!" snipped the woman. "You've become quite the brute, haven't you? You think just because you have super-powers, you can just waltz around and-"  
"Kick your butt? Yea, I can, if you don't leave! Take a _hike_, wrinkle-face," Buttercup dismissed her, eliciting giggles from her entourage.

Well, well, didn't she just look _sooo _cool, with her hands in her jean pockets, leaned back against the trashbin, all...trying to look smooth-like. Or something. Urgh. It was a disgrace. It looked more like someone from the Gangreen Gang than a PowerPuff Girl.

Blossom had enough. In an instantaneous blur of red, she dropped a hundred feet or so, landed right in front of the collective of teenage punks.

"Is there a _disturbance, _here, Ma'am?" Blossom asked the elderly woman, glaring at her sister all the while. Buttercup gave her a surprised and irate look.

"Oh, Blossom!" the woman cried, wriggling her cane at the green-eyed girl who'd insulted her. "Someone needs to get this crazy young lady under _control_! Why, I _never_..." She seemed to be shuffling off as quickly as her old limbs could take her.

"'_Oh, I never_!'" Buttercup mocked, rolling her eyes. "Yea, _I never _met a lady so stupid to backtalk to _me _like that..."

"Buttercup!" Blossom snapped, arms stretched with expectation. "What is _wrong _with you?"

"_Tsh_." Buttercup nodded her head to her compatriots, cool as a cucumber – the boys looked less-than-excited to see Blossom, however. "She wants to know what's _wrong _with me," Buttercup muttered to them, shaking her head. "Can you believe that?"

"Listen," Blossom firmly presented herself, keeping her distance. "I just want to talk."

"Yea, I bet," Buttercup defied. "You and the entire damned city. You come here to try _arresting _me, too? That it? I didn't fall in line, so they asked _you _to do it, huh? Well, I ain't comin', so you can piss off."

"_Buttercup!_" Blossom reeled at her sister's profanity.

"Oh, _grow up_," Buttercup scoffed, pulling her hands from her pockets and crossing them over her chest. "We're not in _kindergarten._"

"I'm not...-" Blossom was a bit stunned by Buttercup's accusation, simultaneously trying to process what she was referring to. "I came on my own, and I told you," Blossom huffed, trying her hardest to keep her cool. "I want to _talk_ with you."

"Whatever," Buttercup shrugged defensively. "Go for it, then." She stood still, her trio of boy-toys all wide-eyed at Blossom, who they knew could whip them in an instant without their powers.

"In _private_," Blossom insisted.

Buttercup's enormous eyes lulled back in her skull with a hot puff of impatience.

"It's about our _Dad_," Blossom darkly specified.

Buttercup's lips fell open ever-so-slightly, and she eyed her sister with a hint of fear. Yea, _that _had gotten her attention, hadn't it? The RowdyRuff Boys exchanged confused glances with one another behind Buttercup's back.

"Fine," Buttercup bit on Blossom's lure, levitating herself off the ground and drifting toward her red-headed sibling. "Let's _talk, _then." She sharply turned her head around and gave the boys a stern look. "Don't go anywhere, I'll be back in a sec."

"You got it, Butter-Boss!"  
"Yes, Ma'am!"  
"Y-yup-yup!"

Blossom shuddered at this interaction, and a second later, her sister was gone, a green beam of light trailing to the clouds. Blossom vanished upward along with her. Buttercup was aimlessly sailing through the sky, a frown glued to her face. Blossom glided by her side, glancing over to her awkwardly.

"..._Butter-Boss?_" she scorned.

"Oh, can it," Buttercup growled back defensively.

"Is there something going on with you and...-?"

"_Ew, _no," Buttercup immediately protested. "Who? Which _one?_" Buttercup grunted in disgust._ "_Those guys are gross, they're just...fun to hang out with."

Blossom believed her sister's blunt words, given the girl's often straight-forward nature.

"I guess they're not the _only _gross ones around here, then."

"_Pff, _whatever, like you have any right to lecture _me_ anymore."

"Buttercup, it's been a long time since we've worked together – I get that maybe you're bored because the city's been so quiet, but..._that? _What _was _that? Hanging around with that lame idiots? Picking on _old ladies?_ You're _better _than that."

"I'd rather hang out with people stupider than I am than someone who's all stuck-up and constantly tryin' to prove how much _smarter _than me she is..."

"Buh...-" Blossom's face contorted. "No, I don't _do _that! And besides, I can't help if I'm-"  
"Damnit, you're doing it right _now!_"

"Hey! What's with you and the language?"

"Ugh, you're not my _mother_."

"Well, we don't _have _a mother, so I guess _one _of us has to step up and-"  
"Oh, so it's _always _gotta be you to be in charge, right?"  
"W-well...Yes! It's what I was _made _to do, isn't it? I'm the oldest!"  
"Just because you were _named _first doesn't make you any older than me."  
"I _act _older than you, so I think that-"  
"At least you got a _real _name that _means _something, not just...because it starts with a 'B.'"  
"Wh-? Are you _actually _going to bring this up again?"  
"Like you care! Miss Perfect..."

"Yea? Well, if you _want,_" Blossom declared with prim aggression, "I can think of _another_ word that starts with a 'B' that's a good name for you."

"_Oh_? Oh, yea?" Buttercup's face lit up, with sadistic amusement. "And what _is _it, huh?"

"...Um...It...-"

"No, no, go ahead and _tell _me," Buttercup jeered with a wry smile. "I'd love to hear it."

"...N-nevermind," Blossom sputtered, backpedaling on her own attempt at insult. Her teeth were starting to chatter and her shoulders were trembling. Geez, it couldn't be that cold up here, could it?

"Yea, I _thought _so," Buttercup puffed, turning her gaze back to the whistling clouds ahead, the pair still soaring across the landscape.

Blossom sighed bitterly, and a cloud of icy-cold breath was what escaped. Startled by this unintentional act, Blossom swallowed hard and tried to speak.

"A-any...Anyw-way, I...I just...-" Talking was proving to be a task with her ice power strangely deciding to act out of line, sputtering snowflakes from her mouth as she spoke.

"Man, _whatever,_" Buttercup grunted. "You think I'm still jealous of your stupid little ice trick?" Buttercup curled her tongue out at her sister irritably. "There!" she spat. "We done playing that game? It's not like _Daddy's _here for you to try making me look stupid in front of, anyway..."

"I-...Th-that's...-" Blossom was rubbing at her chilled arms as they flew.

"_What_...-!" Buttercup halted her flight on a dime, arms furiously crossed. "-...do you _want_?" she finished, watching Blossom slow to a stop ahead of her. "Huh? What's going on with the Professor? Let's just cut to the chase here."

"Buttercup..." Blossom's lips inadvertently pouted a bit at her sister's resistance. It ached her to the core to feel so helpless and disconnected like this. Bubbles couldn't help it, but Buttercup was _choosing _to segregate herself. That burned deeper than any injury that could be sustained in a supernatural fisitcuff/laser/energy fight.

"_You_ brought him up," Buttercup stated solemnly, staring at Blossom with expectation. "What? Is he getting better? You here to tell me things are gonna _magically_ go back to normal, and I should _grow up _or something?"

Blossom's eyes quivered, and she looked down with uncertainty, the words hanging in her frigid throat. She swallowed again, dredging up heat from her own body to clear up the crystals that had formed. After taking a deep, normal breath of validation, Blossom looked up at her now wary-eyed sister, and shifted gears in conversation.

"What ever happened to _dedicating our lives _to fighting the forces of evil?"

Buttercup's worrisome look transformed quickly into a spiteful frown.

"In case ya haven't _noticed, _there _aren't _any more 'forces of evil' around here," she declared, waving up her stubby arms. Blossom couldn't help but wonder if she was looking at one right then and there, but that thought didn't sit well with her at all, and she tried to push it away.

"There are _always _evil people-" she began.  
"Not in _our _town," Buttercup insisted. "Not anymore. Thanks to _me._" She pressed her fingerless hand into her chest firmly.

Blossom squinted at her sibling's arrogance with some disgust.

"Thanks to _you_? Buttercup, you're...a _murderer, _you-"  
"Oh, _please, _like we've never had to off anybody before."

"W-well, sure, but, I mean, those were, like..._monsters, _freaks, not actual _peop_-"

"Freaks? _Freaks?!_" Buttercup closed the distance to her proclaimed leader, those huge green spheres cutting into Blossom's soul. "Like _us, _you mean. Why do you think I hang _out _with those guys?" She gestured an arm over her shoulder. "'Cuz they're the only _freaks _like us still left in this town...After everything that's been going on, I wanted...I wanted to just be a _normal _teenager for, like, five freaking seconds. They were the only people I could feel 'normal' with, because...they're the most...like us...out of anyone I know."

"We're...-" Blossom couldn't even finish, because she whole-heartedly agreed. They _were _freaks, the PowerPuff Girls, and the RowdyRuff Boys were indeed about as close as anyone came to matching them. "But...They're _bad _guys."

"_What? _Not anymore! Not since they lost their powers! They're just..._lazy _now. Jerks, I guess, but...-"

"Buttercup, we're not _like _them. You? You are not like them! We fight for _good_."

"Hell _yea, _we fight for good. We _fight._" Buttercup pounded one stump into the 'palm' of the other. _"_Sometimes ya gotta let loose some _whoop-ass _to get the job done. They all had it comin' to 'em."

Blossom's lips wrinkled with disdain at Buttercup's vocabulary. She put her chin up and tried her usual holier-than-thou approach.

"Oh, so that old lady-"  
"I didn't _hurt _her, did I? Didn't even touch her, that was...just me having some fun with the guys."

"So instead of playing sports or fighting crime, you've stooped to being a _bully _to have fun."

"Fine, I don't...even _care _right now." Buttercup shook her head, shrugging the matter off as she acknowledged the facts.

"W-well, _I _care!" Blossom pleaded. "I mean, what if you get put in jail because of all this?"

"Please. Like there's a jail cell that can hold me."

"You _seriously _don't feel guilty? At all?"

"No! I don't! I just _told _you, they deserved what they got."

"Buttercup, I know that-...I mean, I guess _HIM _deserved what he got, after what he did to Bubbles, but-"  
"And after what he made her do to the _Professor? _He deserved to die _twice, _if you ask me!"  
"He was..._pure _evil, Buttercup, I...I agree, and...I'm sure the world's a better place without him, but...-"

Blossom's heart was heavy at the memories twisted, gnarled inside her round skull.

"But _nothing!_" Buttercup hissed. "You're not innocent, ya know – we took him out _together_."

"It was _your _idea to...to...-" Blossom couldn't even form the word with her lips. Buttercup eagerly obliged in finishing the thought.

"_Kill _the bastard? Yea, and I'm _glad _I made that choice. And I'd make it all over again!"

"Fine!" Blossom snarled, defenseless against Buttercup's wrath. "But the _rest _of them didn't-...I mean, what was wrong with putting everyone in prison like usual?"

Buttercup sucked in a deep breath and sighed out her impatience.

"Obviously, prison was _not _solving anything, Blossom, with the way those creeps kept escaping."

"But that's not _our _call, Buttercup, we have to obey the _law, _or otherwise what makes us better than them?"

"C'mon, don't give me this Batman junk. _I_ never shot down a man just so I could steal the watch off his hand!" Buttercup snarled. "_I _never kidnapped children so I could sell them for ransom! _I _never put someone in danger just for the heck of it, or because I...lost my temper."

"You have _so_ cause trouble from losing your temper! We all have. All three of us have made mistakes. Weren't you _just _saying that I'm not innocent? We've caused enough damage on our own, too. Do you know how much destruction we've caused this town over the years?"

"Yea, but not nearly as much as what would happen if we'd done nothing, 'cause we were looking out for this _greater good _that you wanna keep pretending is a real thing."

"It _is _a real thing, and it's _our _job to uphold it."

"We don't have to do _anything _if we get rid of all of the criminals – which I _did, _by the way."

"You really _are _proud of that, aren't you?"

"Yea! Ya know, I _am_! It was a long time coming."

"And Mojo Jojo? He wasn't even _doing _anything when you invaded his home..."

"Don't be stupid, Blossom, he was _gonna _pull something. Especially with Bubbles the way she is now, he could've taken advantage of-"  
"But he didn't."  
"He was _going _to," Buttercup insisted through grit teeth. "He always was up to something."  
"Yea, maybe...building _model ships _in his _bathrobe, _but not scheming any-"  
"_Ohhh, _well, excuse _me_ for catching him on the wrong day of the week!"  
"I...I can understand _HIM _but...Mojo was always more of a nuisance than-"  
"What, you actually feel _bad _for him, now? He's always been trouble, and he was just going to keep-"  
"You don't _know _that."  
"I know no one's gonna miss his stupid rambling, or his stupid plans, or his _stupid_-"  
"You _murdered _him, Buttercup! He wasn't up to anything, it had been weeks since he'd so much as _built _any kind of-"  
"Ya know what? **I don't **_**care**_!"

The air had shaken around Blossom, Buttercup's mouth roaring out a supersonic burst. Blossom's hair whipped furiously from the force, and she nearly lost her aerial footing. She gradually opened her eyes through the tense silence.

Buttercup was on the verge of tears, eyes squinted while her arms were trembling with pent up rage. Blossom's heart raced at the sight, harkening back to the day Buttercup had taken her along on that horrible rampage.

"Why the hell have we spent so long protecting the retarded people of this city if they'll just sit back and-"  
"_Buttercup! _How can you _say _that?!"  
"-and keep doing _nothing _for themselves?!"  
"We were born with great power, and with great power comes-"  
"Don't even gimme that! I mean, what's even the _point_?"  
"Someone has to uphold justice, it's the right thing to-"  
"Well, I'm sick of it!"  
"We have a _responsibility _to these good people-"  
"They're not _good _people, they're...idiots!"  
"Oh, but you'll hang _out _with idiots, instead of your own sist-"  
"**Stop it!**"

Buttercup ended their spat with another supercharged roar, pushing Blossom back a few feet.

"Just..._Stop it_!" Buttercup repeated, her voice cracking. "I get it! OK?!" She thrust her arms to her sides. "You're a _better person _than I am! Good for _you! _For once, I do something that makes _everyone's _lives easier, and you just will _not _even give me that – just that _one _victory. So, ya know-? Great. You're still this _wonderful, perfect person. _Does that make you _feel _any better about what's happened? To Bubbles? To _Dad_?"

Blossom blinked meekly at her sister's harsh perspective. Tears were poking at the cracks of her eyes.

"...No," she replied in defeat.

"Then why do you still have to be _right _all the time? It doesn't _matter! _What's done is _done, _and it doesn't matter which one of us is _smarter, _or _better, _or whatever! It's _over._"

"Buttercup, you...you don't _want _to go back to the way it used to be?"

"_No, _I don't wanna...-" Buttercup paused and a held back breath heaved out. She shook her head, eyes threatening to leak water at any moment. She rubbed her knubby hand across her face and whimpered into her elbow. After a deep breath, she looked back up to Blossom, her cheeks red and damp. "I'm _tired, _Blossom," she squawked with exhaustion. "I'm tired of...-" She popped up her shoulders. "-...everything. We spent so many years spinning in circles...We could've ended it whenever we wanted. I just wanted to be done with it."

"Like _this_?" Blossom direly questioned. Droplets began sliding down her round face. "This is how you wanted it to end?"

Buttercup tilted her back back, looking up to the beautiful stars beginning to form in the night sky, the sun barely a glimmer on the horizon.

"N-no, I...I should've...-" Her gaze fell back to Blossom. "_We _should've ended all this _before _we let those crazies rip our family apart."

"Violence was not the answer, Buttercup."

"It was the _only _answer."

"If we hadn't _kuh_-" Blossom choked on the word momentarily. She shuddered. "-..._killed_...HIM...so quickly, m-maybe we could've found out how to reverse what he did, maybe we-"  
"Maybe, maybe, maybe! And _maybe _he would've gotten _me _next. Or _you!_"

Blossom drooped her head, without a valid argument to contest this. Their battle against that satanic beast had been the closest call she could ever recount. HIM was always the most dangerous of their foes, even when it was three against one, but with one PowerPuff down and out? Giving it their all had probably been the only viable option, looking at it as objectively as possible.

"Blossom," Buttercup moaned, reaching her arms out toward the red-head. "After what we did – what _I _did – no one has the guts to even _touch _Townsville anymore. It's finished. There's no 'saving the day' because no one _needs _saving anymore, not as long as we're here. Now that they know we mean _business, _you can bet the cowards I let live will stay the _hell _outta our town."

"Because they're _afraid _of us, Buttercup."

"Um, _hello? _Duh, that's the idea! With everything we're capable of, they _should _be afraid."

The darkness in Buttercup's eyes when she said this made Blossom's insides churn. Could Buttercup be turning into that which they'd spent so many years fighting?

Had they been younger and more naïve, Blossom was certain that by now, the two of them would've moved on from a shouting match to a super-powered standoff. The fact that neither had initiated such a fight by now was proof enough to Blossom that her sister was still _in there, _that there was still hope here. How could she bring that out?

"Buttercup..." Blossom's whole body was shaking from the emotional strain of this situation. She had her hunches about her sister's feelings over everything that had been going on, but this was too much for her to bear right now, on top of everything else. Her one sister had lost her mind, and the other had callously dismissed her morals. "Don't you see what's happened?"

Buttercup had no reply to this, other than her regular frown.

"He won," Blossom shrugged, hugged at her queasy stomach. "He's beaten us – by turning us against each other, like he always wanted."

"Blossom, he's _dead. _I'm pretty sure that means that _we _win."

"But...but with what you've done, they'll-...What if they _do _figure out a way to lock you up? I mean, it _has _happened before..."

"That-! That's not gonna happen, they _can't_!" Buttercup shakily tossed the idea back out of her mind. "Are you kidding? I'd just break out. _You'd _break me out."

Blossom gasped, abhorred at the notion.

"What? No way! That'd be illegal!"

"But I'm your _sister, _and you're _Blossom._"

When Blossom frowned at her sister's assumption, Buttercup shrugged.

"Or Bubbles would do it," she theorized in an uncertain mumble.

"Oh, right," Blossom pouted. "We'd break you out, and then you'd be wanted, and _we'd _be wanted, and everyone would hate us. We can go live on a _meteorite, _then..."

Buttercup rolled her eyes at Blossom's dramatic scenario, and yet she couldn't really work out any situation that she'd label as 'OK' should she be found guilty of her crimes.

"I just want my family back," Blossom wheezed into her arms, dry sobs getting coughed out. She'd already spilled her tears out into her pillow earlier that evening. "I want my _sister _back...both of them."

Buttercup's frown deteriorated at her sibling's breakdown, her own face finally dripping free droplets, the cold air swiping them from her cheeks.

"...Me, too," Buttercup confessed.

Accepting these words as an invitation to reparation, Blossom whizzed into her sister, and the two tumbling through the air in a distraught hug before rebalancing their levitation.

"I'm sorry," Buttercup whispered over her sister's shoulder. "I really messed everything up...But-but I-...After what he did to Bubbles, after what happened to Dad, I was so..._angry, _and I just...-"

"I know, I understand," Blossom assured, clinging to her sibling ferociously. It was the first instant in some time in which she felt genuinely connected to her family, as things had used to be. She wanted it to last as long as it could. "I'm angry, too," she made her own confession.

"At me, right?" asked Buttercup.

"Well, lots of people, but _especially _you," Blossom explained, their hug splitting apart. "Because I know you're better than this...Because I love you, and you're my sister. And I really need you right now."

"...Why?" Buttercup wondered, recalling the entire reason Blossom had offered as the cause of their discussion.

"Because," Blossom puffed out, the briefly rekindled warmth in her eyes flickering away in an instant. "Dad's...not doing so well."

Blossom's already agonized heart was dealt an extra blow at the way Buttercup's face paled at this remark.

"They've spent a long time trying to figure out what it is, but nothing they do will work. They can't get him out of his comatose state, _I _can't figure it out, either, and so they asked me a couple days ago if we should-"  
"You didn't _tell _me about this?" Buttercup gasped, flabbergasted.

"How _could _I?" Blossom winced out, hoping against hope not to boil this back into arguing. "You wouldn't return my calls, you let your voicemail fill up, you wouldn't come home, and you'd made it _pretty _clear that you didn't want to hear from me, and so...-"

"Blossom, I-...This is kind of a big deal, I mean, you could've...-"

"I've kind of been under a lot of stress, OK? Do you know how much work it is to study, and take care of the house, to be conducting the _extensive _research I've been doing to figure this all out, _and _watch after Bubbles, _and _try to do the community service that I volunt-"  
"OK, all right," Buttercup attempted to cool her down. "I'm sorry."

"I've been...losing my _mind _these past couple of days. Bubbles is getting worse and worse. We had a fight today, and she ran off. Just took off! I mean, back when the doctors told me about Dad, I _tried_ explaining it to Bubbles, and it's like it...just goes in one ear and out the other. She's not retaining anything, and at this point, it's as if she's...forgotten what happened altogether. But...-" Blossom nodded her head in Buttercup's direction. "You know...she still remembers _you _just fine."

Buttercup bit her quivering lip and sniffed at the air.

"She-...She does, huh?" the girl mumbled, touched by the notion, and simultaneously guilty for the way she'd practically abandoned things that week.

"We miss you, Buttercup. And we need each other right now. Will you please just...help me find Bubbles, and we can all just go home? Get a good night's rest? We can discuss this tomorrow and decide...what we want to do – all three of us."

Buttercup huffed out a deep, trembling sigh before looking backward, toward the mall in the distance. Those bug-eyed boys could perhaps relate to her, but...they weren't her family. As lost and confused as Buttercup had been since she'd slaughtered so many of their old foes, she wasn't surprised that Blossom had managed to get her back into some realm of sanity. Blossom wasn't the only person who needed her sisters at that point.


	4. Chapter 4

"-...was _soooo _cute! _Kewwwwtt!_ And I petted it, and petted it, and then we played tag, and then its brothers and sisters were there, and I petted them, and petted them again, and...-"

Bubbles' giddy storytelling of her time at the zoo that day seemed to go on forever. The hyperactive toddler stuck in a teen's body went on, not even noticing when Blossom and Buttercup initiated a low-key conversation beneath her.

"I...kinda forgot how bad it was," Buttercup sighed under her breath.

Blossom shot her a look, as if to express, '_What did I tell you?_'

"What are we supposed to _do _with her?" Buttercup whispered incredulously.

Blossom shrugged wildly back, just as much at a loss.

"Well," Buttercup mumbled shakily. "You're the smart one, here. You don't have any ideas?"

"Remember how you said you were tired of fighting?" Blossom quietly reminded. She poked at her own head. "I'm tired of _thinking_."

"We can't just do _nothing_."

"We have a _bigger issue _to consider right now, Buttercup..."

Buttercup's face lost its sting of attitude at this remark, and she let her head flop back into the couch's cushion.

The two quietly sat, enduring Bubbles' squeaky, speedy gibberish as they stared with dire resolve into blank space.

"-so I named her _Twiggy, _and she was the nicest little giraffe – so cuddly-wuddly! And then Twiggy the bear and Twiggy Jr. the _baby _bear played hide-and-seek with me, and I won every time, and _then _we...-" Bubbles stopped on a dime, glaring at her two siblings across the room. Those blue eyes seemed to flash with an ice-cold look. "Are you even _**listening to me**__?!_" Bubble snarled, her voice changing pitch as her cry blew the couch backward, tumbling the two sisters to the floor and into the wall behind them.

With an irate groan, Blossom fumbled to her knees, casting a backward glance to the wall. Aw, boy. There was a nice couple of head-sized cracks in the wall now. Another thing to fix later.

With a light gesture of the edge of her arm, Buttercup tipped the couch back upright, drearily floating herself back into the same seated position she'd been in. Blossom slowly approached Bubbles, who was breathing with a ragged agitation.

"Bubbles? Hey..." Blossom placed a gentle touch on her sister's back. "You OK?"

Bubbles' anger swiftly dissipated into a lip-wobbling glower.

"You guys were ignoring me," she whimpered, beginning to choke on sobs.

"I know," Blossom cooed nervously. "We're sorry. Right?" Blossom glanced expectantly at Buttercup, who grimaced awkwardly.

"Sorry, Bubbles," Buttercup muttered half-heartedly, her cheek lazily propped against her 'hand.'

"We're just...worried about some more important things," Blossom explained cautiously.

"What's more important than _cute animals?_" Bubbles puffed out in exasperation.

"Uhhh, _well...-_" Blossom's voice peaked as she eased Bubbles to occupy the seat of the couch opposite of Buttercup. She then took the center cushion, and the three sat in graceless quiet for a couple of seconds. Buttercup respired audibly through her mouth and dropped her propped up arm, turning to the others.

"We gonna talk about this, or what?" she asked, rubbing at one eye with a small yawn.

"Talk about what?" Bubbles innocently chirped, wriggling her legs to and fro with anticipation.

Sullen and unsure, Blossom tapped at her lips contemplatively.

"It's...about Daddy," Blossom began.

"_Ohhh, _The Professor!" Bubbles sang out. "Is he finally gonna take us on a trip? It's been for-_everrrr _since we went on a trip!"

"Um, n-no, Bubbles," Blossom hastily corrected. "Daddy's _sick, _remember?"

"_Whaaat_?" Bubbles squealed with disbelief. "Nuh-_uh! _We just saw him a few hours ago, he looked _great! _He was-"  
"That was a _statue, _Bub-"  
"-all _shiny _and smiling, and everybody was _clapping _'cuz of how _smart _he is, and-"

"Blossom, she doesn't _get _it," Buttercup scoffed.

"**I-was-talking!"** Bubbled shrieked in her frightening 'hard-core' voice, causing the room to shudder. Blossom and Buttercup both froze, teeth grit and wide-eyed. Bubbles followed up: "**Don't-be-rude!**"

Bubbles' second supersonic growl caused another tremor, followed by the crashing of a nearby lamp. Without its light, the late-night living room grew dimmer, lit only by the distant light of the kitchen. Bubbles yelped out a tiny, shrill squeak of fright at the darkness that enveloped them.

"Whoa, whoa, it's OK!" Blossom immediately babied her, inviting the whimpering girl into her arms. Buttercup snorted as she flew to the light-switch, illumination the ceiling lamp.

Bubbles' sniffles died down, and Blossom granted Buttercup an appreciative nod. As Bubbles sighed a breath of relief, Buttercup dropped herself back onto the couch. Frowning bitterly as she blinked at the empty television, Buttercup crossed her arms and sat silently as Blossom continued to coddle their sister.

"See, Bubbles? Look what happens when you use your outdoor voice in the house. We talked about this, remember?"

"Uh-huh," bemoaned the brain-washed blond, wiping her face dry with the nearest decorative pillow.

As Blossom patted Bubbles' shoulder tenderly, she couldn't help but notice Buttercup's distant scowl. A misjudgment would cite that Buttercup was frustrated with her baby-ish sister, but Blossom knew the real feeling that rested beneath those enraged, emerald eyes. Buttercup was infuriated that this had happened to their sister, not at the afflicted sister herself.

"_Buh-_Blossom," blubbered the blue-dressed girl with a loud sniff.

"Huh?" Blossom snapped her head back from one sister to the other.

"...I'm hungry."

"...Oh," Blossom muttered, fidgeting with her poofy ponytail as a wary sigh dropped out. "Um, w-well, I guess there's-"  
"Can I have some _ice-cream? _**Pleaaaassse**~?"

The blond Bubbles smacked her stumps for hands together in a pleading gesture, and Blossom couldn't help but feel disconcerted by the image: her elongated pigtails were frayed and coming undone, her blue dress – the same one worn at the status ceremony – was speckled and stained with dirt and grass, and her gestures and intonations hearkened back to an older time when they were younger.

When Blossom's stupefied face offered no answer for a couple of seconds, Bubbles burst out in a quick, snappy growl.

"**I-said-please.**"

Blossom's eyes lulled upward with disapproval while Buttercup sat in a stoic state of ire.

"OK," Blossom caved in reluctantly. A blink of blue flashed across the house, and Bubbles was instantaneously transported to the kitchen, perusing the freezer.

Some distance between them and the afflicted girl, Buttercup finally looked away from the lifeless television. She noticed Blossom tiredly tilting their coffee table upright, collecting the strewn assortment of books and manuals that had been blown about. Buttercup's sharp-sensing eyes managed to scan the book titles just quick enough before Blossom whisked them upstairs in a beam of bright red.

{_Bipolar Disorder: Myths and Facts_}  
{_Dealing With Dementia_}  
{_Alzheimer's Disease_}  
{_Unlocking the Past: Memory Repression_}

Sitting alone in the living room space, Buttercup tuned out the sounds of Bubbles scarfing down a pint of ice cream echoing off the kitchen tiles. Buttercup looked across the room, noting the pieces of broken lamp littering the carpet off to the side. She then noticed the corner of a book peeking out from beneath the couch. She pressed the edge of her hand against the softcover book, summoning it to follow her arm and to her eye level.

{_Living With Depression_}

In a blink, Blossom was back, hurriedly swiping the book from Buttercup's hand. Rather than immediately zooming back upstairs, Blossom instead stared at the book, a look of shame cresting over her face. In that instant, Buttercup understood who this last book was for.

"Blossom," she whispered with some sympathy. A bar of red light was the reply, trailing upstairs. Buttercup sunk her head into the couch cushion and waited for a couple of seconds until their leader returned with a dustpan and brush in hand. "Hey," Buttercup started up again, watching Blossom sweep the lamp pieces up.

Another flash of red, and Blossom was discarding them into the kitchen wastebin.

"H-hey, Bubbles, how is that...ice cream, there?" Blossom asked, distraught by Bubbles' messy face.

"_Mmmm hm-hm-hm," _Bubbles hummed out a sadistically satisfied laugh, her cheeks puffed up with dessert.

"Oh, looks...good," Blossom weakly complied, leaving the hungry girl to finish her snack and zipping back upstairs. No more than a second later, and the red-head had returned to the couch, the dustpan put back in its proper place, no doubt.

"Hey," Buttercup tried a third time. She patted the seat beside her, and Blossom let her eyelids drop, relaxing herself beside Buttercup. Buttercup's previous scowl had melted a layer off, revealing her guilt and sympathy. To her surprise, Blossom reached out one arm across Buttercup's shoulder – an intimate gesture, as if out of gratitude simply to have her sister at her side. Buttercup reciprocated, and the two warily watched Bubbles finish up. The girl dunked the emptied carton into the trash like a basketball, daintily dropped the spoon into the sink – it clattered noisily with the other contents – and swiped up a napkin from the kitchen counter, wiping her mouth clean.

"'Kay!" Bubbles chirped pleasantly, a prideful smile about her as she floated into the living room.

"Ah," Blossom detached her connection from Buttercup and sat upright. "All right, so, Bubbles, about Daddy – we need to talk about how we're-"  
"The Professor's down in his lab!" Bubbles casually explained, continuing to drift on by. "I'm too sleepy for _serious _stuff, why doncha go talk with _him _'bout it? I bet _he _could help..."

Blossom's mouth hung open in disappointment as Buttercup just blinked in a befuddled silence. They watched Bubbles stretch out her arms and eke out a teeny-tiny yawn.

"G'night!" Bubbles bid them sweetly from the open second-floor balcony. She left the bedroom door open a crack to allow some light to trickle in.

Blossom and Buttercup exchanged concerned looks.

"Wh...-?" Buttercup was at a loss for words.

"We should talk in private," Blossom sighed under her breath, flying up from the living room and heading off for the basement laboratory. "Come on."

Buttercup hesitated, lifting her weightless body up to the second floor and peering at the dark crack in the bedroom door. A moment later, she sunk back down and headed for their Father's lab. What greeted her there did nothing to improve her loss for words.

An assortment of equipment was out and about, not in the proper places – the girls had tidied up the Professor's lab when he'd fallen sick, but this was clearly a lab that was being put to use. The large overhead marker board was scribbled with all sorts of formulas and foreign symbols, but it was definitely not the Professor's handwriting: it was Blossom's.

The books, the lab, caring after Bubbles...While Buttercup had been using her fists to feebly try and generate a solution to their mess, Blossom had been using her brain. Neither, it seemed, had found any success to their ails.

"It's useless," Blossom whimpered, her bleary red eyes glaring up at the board. "I've been trying, inbetween everything else, to try and help the doctors..."

"Huh? Help with-...Wait, what?"

"Daddy's condition," Blossom cited, her head hung in acceptance of her failure. "I've tried using everything he taught me, everything the doctors have given me to work with, but...it's just not something we can cure."

"W-well, but...we already figured he would just...get better with time, right? I mean...-"

"Buttercup," Blossom darkly huffed, looking to her sister. "He's _not_. I told you – he's been comatose for weeks."

"I thought he wasn't getting worse, though" Buttercup grasped at hope.

"He's not," Blossom acknowledged testily. "He's also not getting _better. _Not a bit. He's just...a _vegetable _at this point." She barely managed out the words, shaking her head in sorrow. "This is what I've been _saying, _Buttercup – they think we should...-" Blossom's eyes went to the floor and she shrugged meekly. "-...you know...pull the plug."

Buttercup took in a sharp, startled breath at the thought. She'd been sitting atop her throne of power lately, vanquishing villains – for good – left and right, driving off the rest in fear, effectively doing what Bubbles had been: trying to forget this horrific problem.

"We...we _can't_," Buttercup winced, her pitch spiking. "We can't give up."

"We're not giving up," Blossom defended fiercely. "This-...It's moving _on. _This is like you said earlier: what's done is done. That was exactly how you put it, right?"

Buttercup was paralyzed at her own words being re-fashioned in this context.

"It's _over,_" Blossom cited firmly. "Daddy's _gone_, and...and we can't do anything about it. We're just...-" She shivered, blowing out a shaky sigh of ice-breath and coughing on a pre-emptive sob. "I just feel like we're pro-longing his pain, Buttercup. I can't live like this – with everything else – and that weight on my shoulders."

Buttercup squinted her eyes and chewed at her lip, pushing out a single tear and hastily wiping it off. She opened her eyes with some determination.

"Then I'll help you carry it," Buttercup decided, understanding her sister's intentions. "Whatever...-" She paused, clenching her stumpy hands on her hips as she processed the weight of their situation. She nodded to herself – there was no need to overthink this, especially when she knew Blossom had already done so thrice over. "Whatever you think is right," Buttercup conceded. "I don't know where I'm going to be in a few days after this trial happens...But I _do _know I won't let you do this by yourself. We're a _team._"

Blossom's face contorted, unable to find a balance between sorrow, relief, appreciation, and pain.

"OK," was all Blossom could manage. She nodded, taking deep, saturated breaths, frigid vapors inadvertently puffing out from her freezing lips. She didn't understand why her powers were acting in this way, and she hugged at herself, feeling cold to her bones. It was a deep, awful sensation in the pit of her stomach. Shivering, she sought comfort from the warm body of her sister.

"I'm sorry," Buttercup sniveled over their embrace. "I'm so sorry..."

"Muh-M-Me, too," Blossom chattered, letting her strong sister's grip warm her up.

"We'll-...This is gonna work out somehow," Buttercup flailed around for the bright side. But she was blind to the pessimistic logic that Blossom could see plainly, literally written on the wall behind them.

As her body's temperature settled into its normal state, Blossom could at least appreciate Buttercup's earnest emotion and headstrong hope in that moment. It wasn't like Buttercup to play the optimist, but she was doing it for Blossom's sake, and that wasn't without merit.

"We'll get through this," Buttercup decided. "Together. All three of us."

"Yea," Blossom mumbled. "That's...that's the PowerPuff way."


	5. Chapter 5

The three girls stood before their father. They were twice as tall as they had been when he'd first brought them into this world, but they were dressed in the same manner they had been at the moment of their creation – blue, red, and green, with perfect little tights and perfect little shoes and perfectly styled hair.

The man laying in front of them, on the other hand, looked quite uncomfortable in his hospital bed, hooked up to tubes and needles. In his unconscious, unresponsive state, he looked in pain, even – though that could've been Blossom's imagination. It made the situation a bit easier for her to cope with if she could convince herself he was hurting.

"Awww, he looks so _peaceful _when he's sleeping."

Bubbles' description of their ill Father was not quite how Blossom would've put it.

"Um..." Blossom pulled her gaze from the bed-ridden Professor and toward Bubbles, who had her head tilted to one side, an awe-inspired smile on her face. It was as if Bubbles was gawking at a napping puppy instead of a dying man. Blossom shook this discomfort off, asking, "Does...does anyone want a minute alone...with him?"

Bubbles' looked confused at this question. Buttercup's eyes were hollow, blankly staring at the floor with languid tranquility.

"N-no?" Blossom mumbled, distraught at their disconnected responses. "Neither of you?"

"Why would I want to sleep with Daddy?" Bubbles whispered with aversion. "That's kinda _gross_..."

Blossom's lips tremored with conflict at her sister's ignorance.

"Why don't...-" Blossom gently eased her levitating blond sister toward Professor Utonium's head. "-...you give Daddy a good-night kiss, then?"

"OK," Bubbles peeped merrily, leaning her body sideways as she floated over his face. She planted a fragile kiss upon the man's pale, wrinkled forehead. "Good-night, Dad," Bubbles twittered quietly to him. "Sweet dreams."

Blossom smiled weakly, unsure if Bubbles would ever even be able to remember this moment, but hoping that if she did, it would at least be a farewell of some sort.

As Blossom eased Bubbles toward the sterile hospital hallway, she lingered in the doorway, glancing back to Buttercup, who was motionless all this time.

Buttercup flinched, a quiet bawl dripping out as she slowly slipped through the air toward the grizzled face of her Father. She reached up her fingerless hand and slid it across the grainy hairs on the Professor's cheek.

Standing across the room, Blossom watched Buttercup drop her forehead into the Professor's chest. She quietly closed the door behind her, leaving her still-somewhat-sane sister to some privacy as she waited in the hallway with Bubbles. Blossom could have used her super-hearing to eavesdrop on what Buttercup might've said, but she resisted.

"Do we get _lollipops_?" Bubbles squeaked, padding her handtips together.

"Why would...-?"

"We're at the _Doctor's,_" Bubbles reasoned. "And we've been good! We should get lollipops."

Blossom's eyes were wide, heavy with remorse and confusion as her nerve-wracked brain bounced around to a hundred places, a hundred possibilities, a hundred 'What if I'd...-?' scenarios.

"Can we, can we, can we?" Bubbles was chirping at her.

Quite keen on _not _creating a scene, Blossom recollected herself and zipped to the nearest lobby desk, swiping a lollipop from a colorful mug and popping right back to her sister's side.

"_Ohhhh, _thankies~" Bubbles giggled merrily, untwisting the candy pop and slurping away.

Blossom watched the wrapper slowly drift to the sterilized floor of the hallway. She couldn't help it – she had to clean it up. After the split second that this took, Blossom was back at Bubbles' side. After a few more moments of awkward hovering and frying synapses, Blossom was jarred from her mind as Buttercup exited the room. Blossom could detect the defeat in those green eyes, the stains of water at the edges of those cheeks, the way those bottom lip was wobbling, struggling to keep sorrows quiet.

Buttercup nodded solemnly to Blossom, who nodded back with an equal measure of melancholy. The two swapped places, and Blossom lingered at the door to the hospital room.

Bubbles suddenly gasped, drawing both of her siblings' attention.

"No, no," she panted, attaching her hand to Blossom's shoulder. "Don't leave me with _her,_ she's...she's going to be mean to me...!"

Blossom quickly realized that Bubbles' was referring to Buttercup, who was now wearing an expression of guilt and shame for her recent actions.

"No, Bubbles," Buttercup meekly defended. "I'll...I'll be nice. I promise."

Bubbles spun around and shot Buttercup a wary glare with narrowed blue eyes.

"Pinky swear?" Bubbles dared.

"Wh-?...We don't _have_ pinkies," Buttercup muttered under her breath, baffled.

"**Pinky-swear**," Bubbles hissed out her command, shoving her hand in Buttercup's face.

In an act of self-defense, Buttercup pressed her hand against Bubbles', nodding hastily.

"Pinky swear! I pinky swear," Buttercup desperately whispered, not at all wanting to draw un-needed attention.

"See?" Blossom nervously encouraged. "It's...it's all going to be fine."

"Yea, I'm not gonna run away again," Buttercup insisted shakily.

"Yay~!" sang Bubbles, offering Buttercup a tight hug. "We'll be one happy family again."

Blossom exhaled frost through her nose unintentionally, unsure as to how to feel over...well, any of this. Sad. Yes, sad was at least one fitting descriptor. But if the three of them were together again, that was at least a step in a positive direction. Maybe, if they worked together, they could reverse what _HIM _had done to Bubbles somehow, at some point.

But it was too late for Father.

Blossom entered the isolated room, devices blipping and bleeping, the Professor motionless in his bed. Blossom felt another shiver set over her, but she ignored it.

"Hi," she whispered to her Dad. She gave pause, contemplating what to say. She hugged at her stomach as it agitated from the stress of this scenario. "I...I tried, Daddy," she mumbled, letting the immediate tears trickle down her face. "I really did. It's-...Everything is so hard now. Without you. I can barely keep us together. I...I can barely keep...keep m-_me _together." Clouds of frost were slipping out along with her words. "Wuh-what am I supposed...t-to do?" She shuddered, the tears on her cheeks frozen to her cold skin. She took a deep breath and tried to find that center she'd managed earlier. She envisioned Buttercup's embrace, Bubbles' smile, and she exhaled a normal sigh as the tears slipped off her face.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save you," she whimpered, blinking off more salty drops. "I...I want to promise that...that I'll save my sisters. I know you'd want that. And...I'm sorry. I just-...I _can't. _I don't know. I'm not so sure anymore what I'm even capable of doing right now. But I _will _try. You made me to be a leader. And I've failed at that, so many times. But you made _us _to be a family. And I'm going to do my best to keep us that way, no matter what."

Blossom's mind reeled with possibilities of things to say, or do. Questions she would ask if she could, things she would make sure he knew could he hear her. But he couldn't hear her. And he couldn't reply.

So she dried her tears, and she swallowed her pain.

Blossom carefully laid her stump of a hand inside the palm of her Dad's, using her other hand to curl his fingers around it. She stared at the sight intently for a few seconds, as if wishing and gawking would make that hand move of its own accord. She couldn't tell if her body was still reacting to cold depression her powers were expressing, or if his flesh was really that lifeless.

All the same, Blossom savored that moment as much as she could – the last time she would feel Father's human fingers encasing her mutant stump of an arm, making her feel natural, human, and whole when all reason and logic that she valued so much defined that she was none of these things.

"I love you, Daddy. We'll miss you."

Knowing that no matter how long she sat there, nothing would change, Blossom lifted her body from the ground. She drifted away, letting go.

She took one last glance at him before exiting the room, where Buttercup and Bubbles were joined by the lead Doctor who'd been in charge of the Professor's care. Blossom wedged herself between her two sisters, wrapping her arms across their backs as the physician laid information on them, clarifying this and that and going over the paperwork and technicalities that would need to be attended to. Condolences, the 'I'm sorry for your loss' stuff...it all washed together.

Even Blossom's logical mind couldn't wrap itself around all of it in that moment. For right now, all she could focus on was that they were ending Father's suffering, and that now she had to start to putting her energies into the two remaining family members still with her. They were each slipping from her in their different ways, but Blossom was determined to hold on for as long and as hard as it took for her sisters.

"Blossom?" the Doctor checked, having noticed that she seemed to have lost attention. "Are you...going to be all right?"

Blossom tugged at her sisters, hugging their sides. Bubbles merrily laid her temple against Blossom's, and Buttercup rested her head on Blossom's opposing cheek.

"We'll get by," Blossom assured, nodding slowly.

"I'm sure you will," the Doctor carefully replied. "You're...the PowerPuff Girls."

"And once again," Bubbles cheered, "the day is saved! By _us!_"

"Uh, we...we'll tough it out," Buttercup agreed, off-put by Bubbles' merriment.

"If there's one thing he taught us," Blossom solemnly explained, "it's that we always have each other's backs."

Blossom nuzzled her head against her sisters' faces and took a steady, warm breath. Her eyes were watery as she put on a brave smile and concluded:

"We're Utoniums."

* * *

_**-Fin-**_


End file.
